


Next time, next time, next time

by antlersantlers



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Dirty Talk, Disabled Character, Disabled!Rey, F/M, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Neurological Disorders, Sex Logistics, Soft Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antlersantlers/pseuds/antlersantlers
Summary: Rey couldn’t decide what was worse:getting readyfor a terrible date,theterrible date, or whatever happenedaftera terrible date. She had joined all the usual dating apps and never hid that she used a cane, but somehow or other it always became A Thing. Yes, ideally she would like to date someone amazing who appreciated her. Maybe this date would be different! She doubted it, but you never know.Or, a cynical disabled woman goes on a date and it ain't half bad!
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 86
Kudos: 142
Collections: Ijustfellintothissendhelp





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few months ago I did a workshop with my local cool sex shop, and it was really great, but I had to do so much additional research because of my body's limitations. But then I started reading and I got all hot and bothered so I wrote this. Sex Logistics is such a necessary part of sex when you're disabled, but it's also _basically_ dirty talk! I hope you like it.
> 
> Thanks to [Britt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trasharama) and Cat for being 10/10 great beta readers.

Rey couldn’t decide what was worse: _getting ready_ for a terrible date, _the_ terrible date, or whatever happened _after_ a terrible date. The pre-date was a strong contender at the moment, as she tried to pick out an outfit while her friends popped by to help (Rose) and kill time (Finn). They lived in the upper unit of the duplex, which was handy when she needed to borrow jewelry or get a ride to a restaurant. 

Finn set up shop on the couch, putting his feet onto her coffee table next to a half-finished jigsaw puzzle, several half-finished books, and a half-finished seltzer (now flat) that she’d use to water her plants later. Rose was flopped across the bed playing some kind of addictive matching game. 

She pulled her hair back into a simple ponytail as she surveyed her closet. She liked to wear her hair up on dates to highlight her neck and shoulders. Finn always advocated for hair down (“It’s a more romantic look”) and Rose was on the side of comfort and ease (“It’s already up and it looks great”). It _was_ already up so she put her energy into choosing an appropriately slutty outfit instead. 

She settled on a sleeveless forest green jumpsuit that was cut low enough that you saw quite a bit of the lacy bralette she wore underneath. It landed perfectly at her narrow waist and the legs were wide and flowy. Miraculously this garment was the right size for her upper body while the legs were actually long enough that they didn’t look like clam-diggers. 

“Hachi machi!” Rose hollered. 

“Keep it in your pants, Tico,” Finn yelled from the couch. 

“I can’t and I won’t!” Rose shouted back and wrapped her arms around Rey. “Our girl looks fiiiiiine.” 

“I look _fine_ ,” Rey replied. “It’s just drinks.” 

“No!” Rose whined. “I’ve got a good feeling about this one!” 

“Millionth time’s a charm?” Rey said cynically as she put on the gold ginkgo leaf earrings Rose brought for her. 

“You never know,” Rose said hopefully as they set up shop in front of the bathroom mirror. 

Rey put in minimal effort for makeup: tinted lip balm, mascara, and eyeliner (top only). She hadn’t had a second date in over a year, so after a while she kind of stopped putting effort into the first. 

She had joined all the usual dating apps and never hid that she used a cane, but somehow or other it always became A Thing. Sometimes people didn’t see it in her pictures (she was distractingly hot), but a disheartening number of people had waited to see her in person then turned right around. One guy pretended not to recognize her so she tripped him a half hour later when he tried to leave the bar without her noticing. Most of the time she didn’t get that satisfaction though. They just stood her up and ghosted. 

“Come on, Rosie,” Finn called. “We’re gonna be late for the movie. My guy is chill, but yours ain’t.” 

”He’ll live!” Rose shouted back with an eye roll. She gave Rey a final once over and a thumbs up. “You look great. If you’re ready we can drop you off on the way.” 

“I just need my bag,” Rey said, and did her best to hustle. 

She had given up on purses, and a backpack wasn’t quite right for her outfit, so she chose a silver sequined hip pack. She only took the essentials: phone, keys, credit card, ID, a few loose ibuprofen, condom, and travel size lube. Everything a modern lady on the go might need. 

To cap off the ensemble she grabbed her favorite cane. It had a bright blue matte body and a beautifully curved light wood handle. There was a transparent rubber strip along both sides of the handle so she could lean it against things without it falling over. That was low-key the best part, because nothing disrupted the mood like the smack of her cane falling onto the floor. 

“You’re not going with the glitter cane?” Finn joked as Rey herded her friends out the front door. 

“That’s for special occasions,” Rey said. 

“And this bozo isn’t special?” Rose asked. 

“We’ll see,” she replied skeptically. “Maybe he’ll be normal!” 

“It bums me out that you don’t aim higher, Rey,” Finn said earnestly. “You’re a catch! These jerks don’t know what they’re missing.” 

Rey just shrugged her shoulders and tried to believe it. Yes, ideally she would like to date someone amazing who appreciated her. But she hadn’t met any candidates of late. She didn’t know what was worse: the ableist assholes who stood her up or the ableist assholes who tried to prove to themselves they weren’t ableist by dating her. _Clap for me, dating the disabled girl!_ Fuck off. The people she had fucked treated her like she was fragile despite her frequent assurances that it felt good and she can take it harder. She’s not like some fancy gluten-free cookie, breaking into one million pieces if you look at her the wrong way. Since they didn’t listen to her, they didn’t get to enjoy all her fun toys. Truly their loss. 

Rey tried not to let it take too much out of her. Her coupled friends constantly reassured that someone was out there for her. They had no illusions about her finding love; she had made it clear ages ago that her faith in that was long gone, so they stopped haranging her about it. So they kept telling her she’d find someone to sleep with but you can’t find someone unless you’re actually looking. _Maybe this time would be different!_ It wouldn’t, she’d snap. _You never know!_ I _really_ do, she’d counter. 

Rose and Finn dropped her off outside the restaurant with promises to check in if she needed an out call. Rose was responsible for those, ever since she entrusted one to Finn and the best he came up with was that terrorists had taken over Nakatomi Tower and someone (who?!) needed her help (why?!). Before Rey walked into the restaurant she gave herself one last look in the window’s reflection. 

She checked her phone and looked up the profile of her date. Ben, 35, pale, long-ish dark hair, strong features. They’ve texted for a few weeks and finally decided to get a drink. He seemed… intense. Rey knew she had a lot of sharp edges, and she was impressed when others made no attempt to hide theirs. Their conversations had been meandering and strange and erudite and _chaste_. 

Ben had suggested dinner, but that was way too much of a time commitment for Rey, so they settled on drinks. She could handle drinks. Drinks usually lasted no more than an hour, and if her date acted like an ass (they always did) she had no issues guilting him into paying (they always would). 

She opened the door to the restaurant and scanned the tables for him, but she barely had to look. As soon as she walked in he stood up, all six feet and change, and waved her over to a table. She took a deep breath and walked over to him, switching her cane to her left hand so she could extend her right to meet his. 

“You must be Ben.” 

“Yes! Hi! Are you Rey?” he said taking her hand and pulling her in closer for a quick awkward almost-hug. He seemed surprised at her accent. It was in her profile and she always used British spellings even in dating app messages, but hearing her voice often did a number on guys (“It makes you sound fancy!” Finn kept telling her. “And smart. Like glasses for your voice,” Rose added). 

Rey extricated herself and sat down across from him, hanging her cane on the edge of the table. She noticed him peeking over at it while she looked at the drink menu. 

“You got a question?” she leveled at him, arching an eyebrow. 

“Not really. It’s just—” he started before the waitress interrupted him. 

“Good evening, my name is Bazine and I’ll be your server tonight! Can I get either of you something to drink?” 

Rey could see the way the waitress looked at Ben, and sure yes of course obviously she understood why. He was built like a brick shithouse, wide and definitely strong under his black button down. His hair was what, on other dudes, Rey might jokingly describe as “emo teen length,” but somehow it worked on him. His features were huge and, taken independently, they didn’t seem like they’d work on one single face; but taken all together he was extremely beautiful. Handsome, sure; but also beautiful somehow. Softer maybe? Harder? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. But she wasn’t the only one taking him in. He and their server chattered away about IPAs, even though he had already decided on one. Well, Ben was asking questions and Bazine (what kind of name was that) was smiling and answering playfully. 

She cleared her throat. “Gin and ginger ale for me,” she said matter of factly, looking directly at their server. 

“Right. Sure.” Bazine said to Rey, then looked back at Ben with a smile. “I’ll be right back with your drinks!” 

This pissed her off something fierce. Once she started using a cane it was like she had a giant neon “DISABLED” sign over her head and yet somehow simultaneously seemed to disappear. She was initially self-conscious about using a cane, and had stubbornly resisted for a while, but it made her life so much easier so fuck it! She started building her cane collection into the strange and wonderful stash she now used. None of this granny cane bullshit. Hers were all wild colors and patterns, and she even had a translucent hollow one that she filled with twinkle lights. 

Badass cane or not, people would hold the door for her but avoid eye contact. Waitstaff flirted with her dates, coworkers stopped inviting her to their rambling drinking escapades, and neighbors ignored her at the farmer’s market. The lone perk of her apparent invisibility was that canvassers no longer stopped her (she doesn’t have a minute to talk about the environment anyways). Early on even her friends had pussyfooted around her like they suddenly forgot how to interact with her. She sorted it out by getting drunk and hassling them over dinner. She may or may not have threatened to beat the shit out of them with her cane, and thus things returned to normal. 

But Rey was still tired of this shit. She pursed her lips and closed her eyes, willing herself not to get angry this early in the date. When she opened her eyes, Ben was looking over at her with a gentle smile. His eyes darted over to her cane again. 

“What,” she said, not bothering to inflect because it wasn’t a question. 

“It’s different,” he said tentatively. “In your pictures you have a few different ones, but this one looks different. I like it.” He scrunched his face a little and scratched his eyebrow. He picked up the menu and perused. 

Rey was more than a little surprised. Usually her dates were too uncomfortable about her disability to mention anything, let alone notice the cane itself. Unless they were disability fetishists, but he lacked the unpleasant single-minded gaze she had learned to avoid. Something for everyone, sure, but that wasn’t for her. 

“This one’s my favorite. It’s a Sabi Roam walking cane. I got it on eBay because they’re hard to get in the states. I think maybe they stopped making them?” She doesn’t usually share that much. Why was she sharing this much? 

“What was the shipping like?” he asked with genuine interest. 

“A nightmare!” she said with a small laugh, gesturing wildly out to the side and nearly hitting Bazine coming back with their drinks. 

She could see Ben’s small chuckle as their waitress set down their glasses. “Can I get you anything to eat?” 

“Uh, are you hungry at all?” Ben asked. 

“Always,” Rey responded immediately. 

“Do you want to get an appetizer? They have an amazing ratatouille poutine—” 

“WHAT! Yes, that.” 

“Ok, we’ll have that then,” Ben told their waitress, with a bigger smile that made his eyes crinkle at the sides. 

“I’ll put that order in for you!” Bazine said, turning on her heel and ambling away. 

She was more relaxed now, even before tasting her drink. She took a sip and looked over at Ben. “So…” 

“So…” he responded in kind. 

Their appetizer arrived as they plowed through all the usual first date stuff. Family, job, education. These things never particularly interested Rey. No family, municipal public servant, state school—she doesn’t care that much so why would her date? Ben didn’t seem particularly hung up on these either. Strained relationship with his family, IT job, and an overpriced liberal arts undergrad then cheap (by comparison) state school for his grad program. A white guy, basically. 

Rey unabashedly enjoyed their food, and Ben didn’t seem to mind her full-mouth interjections and gestures using eggplant fries. The last guy she saw was openly disgusted by her eating habits, a true deal breaker because her table manners were non-negotiable. Ben wasn’t eating quite as fervidly, but he was definitely getting in there. 

Eventually they moved on to their cultural tastes and started talking about their top 5 movies (because who can choose a favorite). When Ben said he had never seen _Who Framed Roger Rabbit_ , Rey’s jaw dropped and she waited a beat before using her cane to push it back up (her favorite physical bit). He responded with an ungoverned guttural laugh, and she couldn’t hide how pleased she was that he appreciated her weird humor. 

She hadn’t even noticed that the plate was completely clean. Ben looked at her tentatively and asked, “Do you want to, uh, get dinner?” 

She looked at her phone on instinct and made a brief noncommittal noise. She had a text from Rose inquiring if she needed an out. 

“I know we said drinks, but they have a really good menu here. Or we could another time. We could do that too.” 

Rey was surprisingly comfortable around Ben, and she realized she hadn’t had a cynical thought since the date began. “Sure, let’s eat,” she ventured with a tentative grin. She texted Rose back that she was good, no excuse needed. 

He flagged down Bazine who arrived with their bill in hand. She seemed surprised that their date was going on longer, but brought over menus and took their orders with fewer flirty glances than before. Clearly a man, however attractive, who was interested in Rey wasn’t worth her effort. 

Ben was amenable to her suggestion of the Korean fried chicken meal for two. It came with kimchi, mac & cheese, mashed potatoes, and collards and Rey was not subtle about how excited she was to try everything. 

By the time the food arrived they were laughing about their favorite jokes from the podcasts they both listened to. No matter the topic, they both had Big Opinions. Her tastes tended more towards comedy and pop culture, and while he listened to more serious stuff there was a good amount of overlap. She razzed him about listening to smart stuff (“Nerrrrrrrd,” she heckled through cupped hands while he laughed and blushed, denying nothing), and he chided her for avoiding anything of substance (“Book learning is for chumps!” she declared confidently. “We’re talking about podcasts, ya doofus!” he teased). They both agreed that true crime podcasts were garbage and spent several minutes imitating the too-serious style that so many people found compelling. His Very Serious voice made her laugh so hard she snorted, and she had to beg Ben to stop so she could catch her breath. 

During dinner, their hands kept touching as they passed side dishes across the table. The first brush of their fingers sent a shiver up her spine, which she tried to mask with a giant swig of her water. There may have been a time when that would have worked, but now her muscles and nerves weren’t cooperating. Instead of a smooth motion, her shoulder jerked up and her upper back arched so hard it cracked. She noticed Ben trying not to leer at her chest, unwittingly pushed out by her spastic reaction. On a different date she might have been embarrassed by her accidental reaction, but she felt warm and appreciated under his gaze. 

Despite the unfamiliar buoyancy Rey felt in her chest, she was also feeling adrift. This date was going well, and that was so unfamiliar she started to second guess her optimism. She excused herself to go to the restroom so she could collect herself. 

She closed herself into a stall and leaned her cane against the wall before starting the annoying process of removing enough of her jumpsuit to pee. Weirdly, she always felt relaxed in a bathroom. Bathrooms were the one room she could always count on to have a lock, so they always felt like an oasis. They were quiet and cold; and no one bothered her so she could try and collect her thoughts. 

She checked her texts and saw she got an unsolicited dick pick from another dude she had matched with. That definitely put her current date into stark relief. In the weeks before her date with Ben, she had been the first to send a sexy photo (classy! Not even a full nude!). When he sent back a shirtless pic, if his face was any indication, she could tell it was with some trepidation (“Why though?!” she had exclaimed to Rose, practically drooling). Most of their texts were strangely familiar, as if they had picked up in the middle of something. It definitely felt like _something_ , but that could be a lot of things. You don’t go through life as guarded as Rey and not tense up when feelings become involved. 

Once her jumpsuit was back where it ought to be, Rey looked at herself in the mirror and noticed her cheeks were pleasantly flushed. She washed her hands and then pressed her cool fingers to her face, trying to repress a smile. 

She closed her eyes and thought about her therapist’s latest proposed mantra: we accept the love we think we deserve. She knew she deserved good things (love? Gross); but knowing something and _knowing_ something can be radically different concepts. At the very least she deserved to get well and truly fucked, and Ben was an above average candidate. She acknowledged the lie, that he was in fact an extremely excellent prospect, but hedging her bets and lowering her expectations had kept her much safer than unchecked hope. 

When she returned to the table their plates were gone and Ben was looking at a smaller menu. She sat down and looked right at him. His eyes were lovely and dark and he pushed his brows together like he was deliberating between something far weightier than desert. He looked up at her and smiled, a gorgeous uneven smile, and Rey tried not to get too swept up in how happy he seemed that she was back. She was only gone for a few minutes, but he looked at her like he couldn’t wait to get back to debating whatever topic they had left off on. All she could remember was that she was right and he was wrong, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore. 

She looked him straight in the eyes and asked, “How about some coffee?” 

That seemed to throw him for a loop, but in a sweet way where she could see the wheels turning in his head. 

“Yeah— Let’s— Uh— Do you—,” he took a deep breath. “Do you want dessert too?” 

“Natch,” she replied and his smile got wider still and for the briefest second she could see dimples. 

She picked out a chocolate pot de crème to share and Bazine wrote down their selection and skulked off. Rey was definitely pleased that she had so completely backed off. 

Dessert, it turned out, was when things got real again. 

“So do you do this often?” Ben asked earnestly. 

“Nope,” she said simply with a small shake of her head. 

He looked confused. “Really? That surprises me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you’re so hot.” 

That got a laugh out of her, but it only lasted a second. “Hot asterisk,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Hot and disabled.” 

He looked confused again. 

“Would that it were so simple,” Rey intoned in the poshest version of her accent. 

“Would that it were so simple,” Ben repeated, adopting a southern drawl and misplaced emphasis. 

They went back and forth a few times until they were giggling like a couple of goofballs and attracting stray looks from neighboring tables. 

“Well they’re obviously missing out,” he finally said with a sigh. 

“Oh I know,” she responded confidently. She rested her chin on her palm, elbows on the table, staring straight at her date. 

He cleared his throat quickly. “Is it ok if I ask more?” 

“Shoot.” 

“So, uh, sex stuff,” he started awkwardly and Rey chuckled. 

“What about it?” she said and gave him her best wide-eyed, faux-naive look. She let him flounder sufficiently, unsure of what to ask, before she continued. “Yes, I can and do have sex and I like having sex. I just have to be mindful of positions because my legs are unsteady.” 

She adopted a very matter-of-fact, hoping to convey that sex was a foregone conclusion. He didn’t seem put off. He even seemed interested, like he was trying to work out for himself what the best, least-taxing positions might be. 

“I can also only come once. Well, I _can_ come more than once but I don’t like to because I get so so so so so sensitive after an orgasm.” With each additional _so_ her eyes closed a little tighter. This was usually not a deal breaker for guys, although she had one hook-up who _insisted_ she come more than once. It was unpleasant, and she told her as much, but her pride in her multiple orgasm reputation overruled Rey’s comfort apparently. No thank you, next. 

She opened her eyes a bit to see Ben looking at her with more understanding than she was used to. “Like bad sensitive, not good sensitive,” she clarified. “And I think a lot of people feel really relaxed and loose after they come? But because of some spasticity stuff, I get really rigid and herky-jerky. In romance novels, I’m always reading about women being boneless after an orgasm. I am the polar opposite of that.” 

“All bones?” he ventured. 

“Yes! Just like a sexy skeleton,” she emphasized the sibilance with some finger waggles and they both chuckled. “Plus dudes get to be sexy and stiff, why can’t I?” 

He was taking everything in stride, just as a matter of course. Like he was noting all the Rules to Fuck Rey, and so far none seemed to be a massive turn off. It had been _so long_ since she had a decent date, let alone a good date. Fuck it, she thought. 

“I’ve got supports too. And… other kinds of things to use,” she said, watching him carefully. His eyes shot right to hers, and she slowly ate a spoonful of the rich chocolate mousse and sucked until the dessert spoon came out clean. 

“Really?” he barely managed to ask. His voice, already quite low, sounded lower still. 

She decided to start easy. “I’ve got some pillows. Wedge-type things. One has a spot for my vibrator so I can use it without my arms getting too tired. They’re made of furniture foam, so they’re sturdier than regular pillows. They can take... _more_.” She raised her eyebrows a little as she said the last bit and noticed him shifting in his seat. 

“I’ve got other types of supports too. Like a thing that hooks over the door, sort of like a sling I guess? I can put my hands and feet in it so I don’t have to hold on to a partner, and they don’t have to hold me up either. It’s a win win. Like, even if you’re strong enough to hold me up; I’d rather you expend that energy elsewhere, you know?” 

His interest was written all over his face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. He looked everywhere but her, trying so desperately to keep it together. 

“Do you need a minute?” she asked playfully. 

“Nope,” he rasped. “You can keep going.” 

She took another bite of dessert before continuing. “I have a couple of strap-ons I really like; and I can figuratively top you, but not literally. It takes an _astronomical_ amount of energy, and I just don’t have it in me. Literally.” She raised her eyebrow and smiled, a little too pleased with her accidental pun. “But it’s the same as other stuff. Positions, lube...” she gestured and trailed off. 

Rey could hear his breathing getting heavier across the table. She made a clicking sound with her tongue as she tried to recall all the things in her favorite drawers. 

“Oh! And I have a spreader bar!” she said with a sly grin. It was her newest acquisition so she hadn’t tried it yet. She elaborated with mock-propriety, “For disability reasons of course.” She returned her attention to the dessert, briefly feeling a pang of nerves about how much she divulged, how foolish she’d feel if he rejected her, how different this felt from her other dates. She chewed on her lower lip and squeezed her eyes closed. She forced a deep breath and opened her eyes, finally meeting his gaze again. 

Ben did not disappoint. His mouth hung open and he had a wolfish glint in his eyes. He looked very interested, and like his brain was working a mile a minute to take in all she had offered. 

“So yeah, sex,” she ventured after a few moments of silence. “What about you?” 

He shook his head quickly like he was trying to refocus his thoughts and could only mutter, “Uh... yeah.” She just looked and waited. She had volunteered so much information, he ought to reciprocate. 

“I guess I haven’t dated in a while,” he replied. He winced a bit, clearly thinking about something she didn’t feel like asking about tonight. “Women tend to find me a little... _much_ I guess? I haven’t been on a good date like this, a really good date, in years.” 

“So you think it’s going well” Rey goaded, knowing both the feeling of a prolonged romantic drought and how well they were connecting. 

“You talk about your spreader bar often then?” He was being playful but his face seemed to tense at the idea of her being so open so quickly with someone else. 

“Never, actually,” she replied. “This is a first.” They both let the words hang while they took each other in. 

“So yeah, all the stuff you mentioned. That, uh, all sounds good,” he said. 

“Ok.” 

“Ok? Like you want to… with me?” he asked, still sounding a bit dazed. 

“If you’re interested, obviously. We don’t have to—” 

“I want to,” he interrupted. She finished up their dessert in an attempt to hide her beaming smile. 

“Yeah, ok, but don’t be gentle. I’m not a fucking porcelain doll, Ben.” She emphasized the condition by narrowing her eyes and pointing her finger at him. 

“I can see that,” he said with a smirk. 

“And I’m _always_ the big spoon,” she added. 

His smirk morphed into a toothy grin and his eyes shifted to his hands and he mumbled, “That sounds perfect.” 

Despite his smile, she could tell he was mulling something over. “Out with it.” 

“Do you mind being carried?” he asked, his brow furrowed with genuine concern. “Like—like not in a patronizing way, but in like a romantic way?” 

His question definitely took Rey by surprise. Even before she was disabled, she had never had a partner show this much concern. “Uh, yeah. I think I’d be amenable to that.” 

“Like if I just threw you over my shoulder or something,” Ben continued, still immersed in his train of thought. 

That thought definitely made Rey’s eyes go wide. “Yeah. Uh, yes. Definitely. For sure, yeah.” 

“Obviously I know you could do it yourself, but like if you fell asleep on the couch or something... I could carry you to bed? Would that be ok?” He finally seemed to reach the end. 

Ages ago she fucked a guy who lived on the third floor of a building with no elevator. He had picked her up to carry her up the stairs without asking first, thinking it would be a chivalrous gesture. Except that everything he had done up until then was inflected with a shitty paternalistic “let me do that for you” attitude. She suspected if they had gone to dinner he would have reached over and cut her food. He was hot so she still fucked him (too gentle, missionary, fake orgasm) and she changed his alarm on his too-bright clock from AM to PM before she snuck out at 3. 

This date— _Ben_ —definitely wasn’t that. She let herself imagine falling asleep on the couch with him, not tonight but in some nebulous hazy soft-focus romantic future. “That seems nice, actually.” 

They sat quietly for a minute, allowing Rey to acclimate to the warmth in her chest. 

“Let’s split the bill and get out of here then. I would ask my place or yours, but we both know I’ve got the good toys.” She smoothly put her card on the table while he made fumfering noises and dug around in his pockets for his wallet. 

They paid quickly and Rey gave Bazine her best _Nice try! Better luck next time!_ smile. They got up and walked toward the door when she spun around and looked him dead in the eye. She turned so quickly he nearly ran into her, but managed to stop when they were just a few inches apart. 

“Oh shit, I almost forgot. Can you take me to PT in the morning?” she asked. 

“In the morning?” he stumbled. “Uh, yeah definitely.” 

“Great,” she said, quieter than she intended and barely suppressing her smile. “Take me home, Ben.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Would that it were so simple.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGpsXuMvApo)  
> A gif of [my best cane gag](https://media.giphy.com/media/AvvBg7l9XN2v9SwJ1A/giphy.gif).  
> Sabi Roam canes are [really gorgeous](https://www.designed2enable.co.uk/itemimages/5503543/Sabi-ROAM-Classic-Walking-Cane_T_1_D_380_I_34_G_0_V_1.JPG). I have a black one I got on eBay and shipping was nearly $30.  
> If you're looking for a good resource about sex and disability, I really liked [The Ultimate Guide to Sex and Disability](http://www.worldcat.org/oclc/958292782) by Miriam Kaufman, Cory Silverberg and Fran Odette.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very big thanks to [Britt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trasharama) and Cat for reading it over for me. This is my first crack at sexy stuff, so I hope it's ok.

Ben led Rey out to his car in a haze. The date had gone so well he was absolutely astonished. 

This woman was incredible. She was so strange and funny; soft in a few ways, but so hard in others. 

When they got to his car she put her hand on his arm to stop him. 

“Hang on,” she said, concern on her face. “Do you think we should kiss first? Like, just in case it’s super weird and we decide we don’t want to have sex?” 

Ben was stunned. He truly could not imagine a world in which he wouldn’t do anything to be with her, even though they had just met, and if she wanted to kiss before they did anything else who was he to object? 

“Sure. Yes. Definitely,” he said as she leaned back against the side of his car. 

“Well, come on then,” she teased. 

“You just sprung this on me! I need a sec.” He smiled and took a deep breath before stepping in towards her. 

Her free hand rested on his hip, tugging him in closer. He wrapped one arm around her waist and the other along her face, letting his thumb graze her jaw. She looked nervous or skittish or maybe something else he couldn’t place, some other negative feeling that didn’t belong there. 

He slowly lowered his head and brought their lips together. At first it wasn’t quite right. When he closed his eyes he aimed a little high, catching mostly her upper lip. She leaned in too quickly and bumped her nose on his cheek. Soon enough they found their rhythm, neither one leading or following, just two mouths moving and breathing in tandem. It was _lovely_ , and he didn’t want to stop; but a group of people walking to their car reminded them that they were in fact making out in a parking lot. 

“I think we’ll be good for the evening,” she said. He could feel her slipping downward and he quickly tightened his grip around her waist. She let out a quick little breath. 

“Sorry, I got caught up and I didn’t think about making sure you had enough support.” He felt completely flustered. 

“No it’s ok,” she said, clearing her throat. “Sometimes my knees buckle for nerve and muscle misfire reasons, and—” she cleared her throat again and looked down at her shoes, “—sometimes it’s for romantic reasons.” 

A soft “oh” was all he could muster, but he couldn’t keep his smile under wraps. It was possibly, no definitely, the sweetest thing anyone ever said to him. 

She gave him a playful smack on his chest. “What?” He asked earnestly. 

“Your smile went from zero to sixty.” The only way he could school his features was not to look at her, so he stared at his keys. 

He gestured toward his car door. “Shall we?” 

When they got into his car, she entered her address into his GPS. It wasn’t a long drive, but Ben kept trying to look over at her whenever he could. Even in the dark, lit by the streetlights they passed, she looked radiant. He thought he maybe saw a smile, but he had to keep his eyes on the road. 

He parked outside her house, and hustled around to open the door for her. She eyed him skeptically when he offered his hand to help her out of the car, but he gave her hand a quick squeeze as he followed her up her path. 

Rey turned around and looked him dead in the eye. “Ok, I didn’t think I was going to have company, so you can’t judge my house,” she stated firmly. 

He put his hands up in mock surrender, and once she turned around to unlock the door he placed them on her hips moving in close to her and slotting his chin against her head. When he pressed against her gently and she returned the gesture like a cat. 

Rey opened the door, toed off her shoes, and deposited her cane into a vintage flower patterned umbrella stand. He sat down on a short wooden bench and removed his shoes, setting them next to hers. 

“You want something to drink?” she asked, heading into another room. 

“What have you got?” 

“Fizzy water, I think?” 

“Sure,” he replied, looking around with his hands in his pockets. 

Rey’s house is unmistakably Rey. He looked at the photos on the walls of her and her friends. Around dinner tables, sitting on patios, relaxing on a beach. There’s one of her in roller skates and full pads, poised to take off with a silver star on her helmet. She had tons of books, and each shelf was crammed with knickknacks. None of her shelves went higher than his chest, which made sense standing on a step-stool was out of the question. 

“Where’s your bathroom?” he asked. 

“Right down that hall,” she says with a gesture toward an open door. 

As he entered the narrow room he noticed the tank cover was propped against the wall in the corner. 

“Is something wrong with your toilet?” 

He heard some bustling from the kitchen and she quickly pushed past him into the small room, muttering a chorus of shitshitshitshit. 

“No, it’s just—” she trailed off as she quickly. She was kneeling down and turning the water back on. He just stood waiting, either for her to say something or for the toilet to be free to use. 

She leaned against the sink, still facing away from him. 

“Sorry. This is so weird. I’m so sorry about that. It should be good to go now,” she said, not meeting his eye. 

“If it’s not broken, why was the lid off?” he asked, using his width to keep her from fleeing. 

She sighed and crossed her arms. A protective barrier, of sorts. “Sometimes, if I take a bath, I use the greywater to fill up my toilet tank. I know it’s weird, but, like, I already paid for it and this way I’m not wasting as much water on something as silly and extravagant as a bath because I like baths but they just use _so_ much water and I feel bad.” 

He liked her rambling but he could tell she felt self-conscious about it. He lightly ran his hand down her arm. The look she gave him was intense, as if she had grown a third head and not just presented a clever water- and cash-saving idea. 

“This is why I never have people over,” she started, exasperated. “One of the reasons, I guess.” He realized he hadn’t said anything during her mental spiral. 

“No no no,” he quickly assured her. “It’s actually,” he paused. She looked up tentatively, scrunching her face up tight. “It’s actually an extremely clever idea. How do you get the water into the tank?” 

Her face relaxed a bit and she grabbed a clear plastic pitcher from a shelf above the toilet. She held it out with a small smile. “I stole it from Dave & Buster’s after the manager called me handicapable.” 

He smiled when she set it on the counter for him, and closed the door behind her. As he washed his hands he heard music playing from the other room. He made his way back to the living room where she was sitting on the couch, one seltzer on the coffee table for him and one cradled in her hands. 

“Is this your sex playlist?” he joked. 

“How did you know?” she asked, gesturing for him to join her on the couch. 

“It’s got that vibe.” 

They both smiled nervously, and Ben was totally taken in by her every gesture. He took the can of seltzer from her restless hands and put it on the coffee table, meeting her nervous eyes as he took one of her hands in his own. His other hand drifted up to her cheek, and he pulled her face closer to his for another kiss. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and laced her fingers together behind his head. He could feel the smile on her face as he tasted her. His hands roved over her body, circling her shoulders and moving down her back. He hadn’t made out like this since he was a teenager, and he had to remind himself not to be too eager. Every moment was needy and urgent, but thankfully with the wisdom of some additional experience. 

He paused for a moment, listening to the synth tones in the air. Rey pulled back and gave him a look. 

“Sorry,” he paused, thinking. “Is this that Knife song about making lasagna?” 

She sputtered and giggled and let her head fall against the front of his chest. 

“Yes,” she said, a little muffled. “I like it. It feels domestic to me.” 

“If you were going to have a Knife song on your sex playlist I’m shocked it’s not Heartbeats.” 

She let out a bright laugh. “Well Heartbeats is on my one night stand playlist,” she replied, lifting her head with a smile. They both chuckled before the difference between those things registered. He could see her realizing what she accidentally revealed, and recognized the grimace of trying not to seem like Too Much. They were still for a few moments, Rey rested her head on him again without making eye contact. His hands were still splayed on her back, so he slowly rubbed his thumb back and forth over the fabric of her clothes. 

“I think the Jose Gonz version is on this playlist,” she ventured quietly. 

“Jose Gonz? You two are on close enough terms to shorten names?” 

“Yes, he’s my secret Swedish boyfriend.” 

Ben chuckled. “Well his version is more intimate anyways.” 

Rey nodded. “So, um, can we talk a little more about the plan for tonight?” she said, finally meeting his eyes but with such a hesitant look in her eyes it broke Ben’s heart a little. He pushed down his anger at all the jerks who had made her feel anything less than amazing. 

“Are you one of those guys who falls asleep right after he comes?” 

He grinned. He enjoyed how forward she was, how readily she asked for what she needed. “Nope, not really.” 

“Ok good. Good,” she said with some pause. “Because I’m not gonna come with penetration, and I don’t know if you remember from dinner but my orgasm is kind of the rate limiting step, as it were. And once I’m done, I’m done.” 

He nodded. “Of course I remember. You get really sensitive.” 

“Right. Yes. So, if it’s okay with you, we can do the penetrative stuff first. And then after, if you want—” 

“I can go down on you?” He hoped he didn’t look too eager. He blinked to try and keep his eyes from going too wide. 

“If you’re up for it.” She responded with such uncertainty, as if that wouldn’t be the best part for Ben. 

He pushed to kiss her, before pulling back and looking her directly in the eyes. “I’ll definitely be up for it.” 

Her smile was so quick, but Ben caught it. He saw her apprehension easing. 

“Ok then.” 

She got up from the couch and extended her hand, which he grabbed immediately. He practically jumped up and she gave him a quick peck before pulling him along towards her bedroom. 

“Is it ok if we don’t use any of my fun stuff tonight?” she asked. “Besides, like, a boring wedge if we need it.” 

“Of course,” he said quickly. “There’s plenty of time to explore later.” _Later_. He wanted a lot of _later_ , but this was still their first date so he didn’t want to be presumptuous. He was about to backpedal until he looked at her. 

Her smile this time was bright and wide, lighting up her entire face. “Great.” 

She had a queen size bed in the middle of the room with mismatched nightstands on either size. The bed was half-made and he could tell she slept on the right side next to the windows. There was an alarm clock, a stack of books, a little knickknack tray, and a water bottle on her side. The other side ( _his side_ , his brain supplied) just had more books. 

She sat on the edge of the bed and started to take off her jumpsuit. Ben just sat next to her and watched, letting his eyes wash over every new bit of revealed skin. She flung her clothes into a hamper near her closet, and when she pulled the black lace bralette over her head he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. He didn’t realize that happened outside of novels. 

Rey was so beautiful, freckled and smooth and slim and pert. He just stared until she cleared her throat slightly. Right. He had to undress too. 

“Is there anywhere specific I should put my clothes?” he asked. He remembered his mother’s reminders whenever they visited uncle Lando’s house to keep spaces clear from hazards. He wasn’t dropping action figures on the floors, but he figured the principle was likely the same. 

She furrowed her brows and her grin showed genuine surprise. “Yeah, actually. Can you put your stuff on that chair next to the dresser?” She pointed to a plain old wooden chair, painted teal. 

Ben had never been super comfortable in his own body. It was always too big or too weird or too awkward. He pulled off his sweater and his shirt, loosely folding them and setting them on the chair. He didn’t look back at her as he removed his belt, his pants, his boxer briefs. He took a deep breath before turning around to look at her, gorgeous and naked waiting for him on the bed. 

“Wowza,” she said. Her eyes were wide, but she barely used any inflection. He chewed on his lip and scratched his eyebrow nervously, trying to work out what she meant. 

“Is that a good thing?” he asked. 

“If I were a cartoon, I’d be a wolf with my eyes bugging out of my head and my tongue on the floor.” 

“Ah. In that case, awooga right back at you?” he said, aiming for light but landing on uncertain. She smiled anyways, appreciative of his attempt. 

He laid down next to her on the bed, draping his arm over her side and stroking along her back. Usually when he slept with dates, there was a flurry of taking off clothes and kissing and then sex. Unceremonious and unremarkable. This was truly the opposite. Every action was slow and deliberate. There was intention and meaning and depth. Being with Rey was so different, he wasn’t sure what to do with all the new feelings. Her hand on his cheek redirected his thoughts to the bed and he smiled looking over at her. 

So much of what she said at dinner was pointed, barbed. She let her guard down, however briefly, and he didn’t want to disappoint her or squander the opportunity. 

He could swear he saw a glimmer in her eyes right before she launched herself at him, locking her lips onto his and pressing her body into every part of his. He rolled her onto her back so he could more easily kiss and explore, her body laid out just for him. 

Every inch of her skin was so smooth and responsive. He would graze her breast so lightly and he could feel her breath catch. He nipped at the skin of her neck and she keened into him. He hoped it was the same with him. Every time she’d rake her nails along his scalp or kiss along his jaw, his chest would rumble with an absurdly feral groan. 

No one had touched him like this before. Well, he had technically been touched exactly like that before, but it had never felt like this. So in tune. Like all the molecules of his body were calibrated to the frequency of hers.t felt like seeing a new color. It felt like music. It felt daring and challenging and safe and so, so, _so_ right. 

They paused, breathless, pressing their foreheads together. It barely registered that they were also going to have sex. Everything up until now felt so much more intimate than all his previous sexual encounters combined. 

“Is it ok if I lie on my side?” she asked, running her fingers through his hair. 

“Of course,” he said, in between kisses along her neck. 

“You can sort of move me around a bit if you need to. I’ll let you know if anything hurts,” she said as she reached into her bedside table and pulled out a condom and small bottle of lube. 

“One of the nice things about being on my side is that it’s especially tight,” she continued as he rolled on the condom, her observation grabbing his attention and causing a wolfish grin to cross his face. 

Ben could hear her quick intake of breath as he pushed into her. He started on his knees, towering above her and using her leg to pull them close. It felt good, _incredible_ definitely, but not quite right. 

He paused a second to think, and she looked up at him with worry. 

“Is everything ok?” 

“Yeah, but is it ok if I try something else?” he asked. “You can stay exactly where you are, so don’t worry about that.” 

“Go for it,” she said, letting her head rest on the pillow. 

He lowered himself behind her, as if they were spooning. He’d like to be able to see her face, but something about the position felt so perfectly close. He could kiss her neck and wrap his arms around to play with her nipples or slip his hand between her legs. His whole chest was pressed against her back, and he nestled his face into her hair. 

“I know you like to be the big spoon—” he began. 

“No, this is perfect,” she replied, breathy and eager. 

“You were right about this being extra tight,” he whispered in her ear with a smile, beginning to move. “I don’t know how long I can last.” 

“Last, don’t last,” she managed through soft moans. “As long as you don’t conk out after.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, speaking in time with his thrusts. That made her giggle; and that small joy, on top of everything else, was his undoing. She was just so perfect and warm and smelled so good. He pulled her as close as he possibly could when he came; and he was reluctant to let her go even though he knew he’d have to eventually, if only to take off the condom. 

She gave him a little nudge and he kissed her shoulder before pulling out and rolling onto his back. 

“Waste basket,” was all she said, lazily pointing to his side of the bed. He tied the slippery latex into a knot as best he could and gently put it into the bin full of used tissues. 

When he turned back she was facing him, arms tucked in tight against her body. He flopped onto his back and turned his head to kiss the tip of her nose. 

“Give me a sec,” he said quietly. 

“Just don’t fall asleep,” she said, wrinkling her eyebrows. 

_Dang she’s cute_ , he thought. That bloom of happiness was the fuel he needed to rally. He kissed her forehead wrinkles, and down her sweet little nose, and the freckles on her cheeks, and the corner of her mouth. He could feel her melting beneath him. He moved over her working down her body with his mouth. Kisses, pecks, nibbles, licks. 

“Your lips are stupid soft,” she muttered. He breathed a chuckle along her belly, tracing the curve of her breast with his nose. He could have spent the entire night, an entire lifetime, lavishing her body with attention, but he felt her hips moving beneath him and tonight didn’t feel like the right time to keep her waiting. _Next time_ , he thought. 

Ben let his legs dangle off the bed as he kissed up the inside of her thighs. He wasn’t particularly graceful, and he doubted he looked particularly suave at that moment, but he truly couldn't care less with something so incredible before him. She hadn’t shaved, but it looked like she had trimmed her hair. He liked that about her. He snaked one arm under her leg, bringing his hand to rest across her hip. He took a moment to admire how much of her he could cover with one palm, her body warm under his touch. 

“Are you ever gonna— ya know—” she barely mustered. 

He pulled his face up from between her legs, eliciting a quiet whine. “Let me enjoy it,” he said. She bonked her knees against the sides of his head in response, making him grin like mad. 

Despite her eagerness, he took a moment to breathe her in, letting his hot breath tease her. Another whine. He guessed she could feel his small laugh against her, but he finally decided to reward her patience. His first motions were tentative, exploratory gestures to see what kind of response he could get from her. 

He slowed slightly to ask, “Do you want a finger?” He wasn’t sure she could hear, muffled as he was by her body. He didn’t want to pause, even for a moment. 

“Uh huh,” he heard her pant. “Just one for now though.” He was thrilled to explore her further, using every sense to please her. 

He didn’t know how much time passed, only that he wished it wouldn’t end. The ache in his knees was overruled by her moans. His aging back no match for her hands grabbing his hair, pulling and scratching just enough. 

He loved that she told him what she liked. The air sang with her words. _Right there, yes that, not quite, do that other thing again, uh huh, just like that, so close_. Aside from telling him she was close, he could feel her legs getting tighter around his head. She caged him in, right where she wanted him. He wanted to give her what she needed, but he also wanted to stay in this paradise a little longer. _Next time_ , his brain soothed. _Next time_. 

He felt her body getting stiffer under him until she suddenly pushed his head away and then it seemed like every muscle and nerve in her body was pulled tight. She held her arms tight against her body, bent and stiff. She jerked hard to her left and her right heel came down hard on his back, right at his kidney. He grimaced, because it fucking hurt, but tried not to groan. She didn’t intentionally kick him, and he didn’t want her to feel bad so he just chewed the inside of his cheek. 

He didn’t really know what to do so he just stayed still. He realized he had lifted her off the bed slightly, so he slowly lowered her down and rested his hands lightly on her hips. He could feel her body, still a little twitchy, relaxing a little at a time. He didn’t have any idea if what she felt was good or bad until he realized she was intertwining her fingers with his. She rubbed her thumbs across his hands, which appeared to be a good sign, so he kissed the inside of her thigh, then rested his head there. 

They stayed there for longer than he would have expected, longer than would be normal with any other partner. 

Eventually he ventured, “You ok?” and he heard the sweetest giggle from the other end of the bed. 

“That was,” she paused with a deep breath, “That was tremendous. Get up here.” 

With that he unwound his arms from around her legs, and kissed her knees for good measure. When he started to stand up, his knees protested and he let out a loud, “Oof.” He flopped his way up to the top of the bed, making old man fumfering noises all the way. 

“My knees are not what they were,” he remarked lightly. 

“Next time we can put a pillow down or something,” Rey replied. He looked into her eyes and thought _next time next time next time_. He beamed and she reached over and poked one of her small fingers into his dimple. 

She turned her face completely into the pillow and groaned. When she turned to face him again she asked, “Can you help me to the bathroom? I’m feeling a little wobbly.” 

He smiled and offered his arm. She grabbed it with both hands and they walked slowly to her bathroom. 

“Sorry,” he stumbled. “I’ll give you some space.” 

Rey laughed and sat down. “I don’t mind. Keep me company?” 

He nodded, looking around the bathroom at her lotion and hair ties scattered around the sink. He briefly leaned against the wall, but it was so cold on his skin he stood back up immediately. He was looking at a framed drawing of a strange looking chicken when he felt her nudge his side and motion toward the toilet. He nodded, and swapped places with her. 

“Do you wanna brush your teeth?” she asked drowsily as she washed her hands. 

“I was just gonna do the finger toothpaste thing.” 

He heard her rummaging in the closet until she emerged with a pink and white toothbrush. She put it on the edge of the sink near him with a quick smile. 

She had grabbed a shower chair from the closet and unfolded it in front of the sink as he grabbed the pitcher and refilled the tank with the bathtub greywater. He washed his hands as she grabbed the toothpaste and put a little dab on each brush. They moved in total harmony, each of her gestures moving in tandem with his. 

She sat down and started brushing, so he did the same sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. 

Once she was relaxed, it seemed like Rey was always joking. She was so much looser than she had been at dinner. She made goofy shapes with her mouth so it sounded like a vocoder, making him laugh and struggle to keep all the toothpaste in his mouth. 

“‘Ow ‘oo ‘ec uh ‘nize ‘pee ‘ch,” she said, toothbrush buzzing and her mouth full of toothpaste. Still brushing, he gave her his most fully perplexed look. 

She spit out her toothpaste. “I said ‘How to wreck a nice beach.’ It’s the title of a book about the vocoder, and it always pops into my head when I’m brushing my teeth. I _think_ someone said ‘How to recognize speech’ through a vocoder and the author heard ‘how to wreck a nice beach.’” She rinsed her mouth with a handful of water and Ben did the same. 

She kept talking as they rinsed off the toothbrushes. “I remember fuckall about the book, clearly, but the title stuck with me. It’s like one of those misheard lines that sounds like something else.” 

Ben said the first example he could think of. “Like ‘Elephant shoes.’” He winced when he remembered what that phrase evoked, but Rey just took his toothbrush and put it in the cabinet next to hers and closed the door. 

“Or ‘Olive juice,’” she said, using his arm to pull herself up. She waved her hand at the stool so Ben just stepped over it and walked her towards the bedroom. 

When she got to her side, she did a full belly flop onto the bed. She was still stark naked, but the silliness of the action made Ben laugh. A goofy sleepy laugh, but she was still smiling at him as he climbed in next to her and they both wiggled under the covers. 

They laid there, facing one another, when she reached over and started playing with his fingers. Her hands looked so little in his giant bear paws. He never liked being so large, but he immediately loved how big he felt next to her. 

“Can I ask you something?” she asked quietly. 

“Sure,” he said, watching her fingers push and flick and manipulate his own. 

Her movements stopped and he looked over to see her eyes screwed shut. “Did I kick you? You know, _during_?” 

She tentatively opened one eye and he smiled even though he scrunched up his face. “Yeah.” 

“Sorry,” she said, moving again to prod and trace his palm. 

“It’s ok.” He closed his hand, trapping hers inside, and brought his other hand up to take her little one in both of his. He moved her fingers around and flopped her whole hand around and traced her fingernails with his thumbs. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Yeah,” she said, and he could feel her looking at his face and not their hands. 

“Will it ever get better? Or worse?” 

She said something that sounds like shy nose nem, but that’s not a thing so Ben just weaved their fingers together and let their hands fall onto the bed. He tentatively reached his other hand under the covers to meet her hip and tugged her closer. He felt her laughing, her body vibrating slightly and minty puffs of her breath gently hitting his face. 

“In Hungarian, one of the ways of saying sorry literally translates as ‘unfortunately, no.’ _Sajnos nem_ ,” she said slower. “‘Do you speak Hungarian? Sajnos nem.’ But yeah, unfortunately no.” Her smile fell a little when she looked into his eyes. “It’s not degenerative, but there’s also nothing I can really do to treat it either. Besides some PT, but that’s more like trying to train my body to compensate in good ways instead of lazy ways.” 

Ben just nodded and listened. 

“My turn,” she said. She pinched her lips together as she formulated her question. “What’s your favorite sex word?” 

“Like word to say during sex? Or word describing what I like about sex? Or just, like, a sexy etymology?” 

“Up to you,” she responded. 

He found a lot of the sex words his friends used (cock, horny, erection) made him uncomfortable. When he read sex scenes in books, they always included words like arousal, bulge, or slit; but that wasn’t really his speed either. 

“It’s probably just ‘yes,’” he answered finally. 

“I like it. Simple, clear, sexy. ‘ _Yes_.’ Mine is definitely ‘quivering member,’ but only as a phrase. For a single word I’d go with something annoyingly British like ‘knob’ or ‘quim.’” 

She claimed reciprocity when she made him say her words, citing how much she had said his. He could tell he was blushing, but all his attempts made her laugh harder. And when she laughed, he laughed; simple as that. 

Eventually their giggles subsided, she looked at him straight on again. “Can I ask you something else?” 

He sensed it wasn’t another goofy sex question. “Go ahead.” 

“Would you have invited me over to your place if I hadn’t invited you here?” 

Ben paused, and answered honestly. “Probably not.” 

She looked more than a little hurt so he rubbed her arm with his thumb. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I, uh, sort of live with my mom.” He winced and she raised her eyebrow. 

“Sort of?” she asked gently. 

“Yeah, we share a duplex. Like this one, but the upper unit—mine—is pretty small. Classic sloped ceilings and everything.” 

“You hit your head a lot?” 

“Constantly,” he said, relishing the light touch of her fingertips as she pushed hair out of his face. “I moved back after my dad had a stroke and I quit my job. Those things were unrelated, but it was good timing anyways.” 

Under the covers her little foot found the top of his and tenderly pushed down. He pushed back up, not moving her foot, just offering resistance. 

“So I moved back into my childhood home. The upstairs used to be mom’s office and a guest room, but now it’s my little space. I started working part-time and spent the rest of the time hanging out with my dad.” He paused again, trying to figure out what was worth sharing. “It was a weird power shift, to have him suddenly so different from the super-capable dad he always tried to be. I think that part was hardest for him.” 

He wasn’t sure if she picked up what he wasn’t saying, his switch to past tense. She was so good at listening, just being there. 

“Did you have a good relationship?” she asked. 

He scoffed and tried not to let the past direct the conversation too much. “No, we did not. But he mellowed so much as he got older. And he was never a big talker, so we spent a lot of time just being in the same space. I think we were in a better place when he died. Not great, just better.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said earnestly. He felt her foot press against his again, and he pressed back softly. 

He gently cleared his throat and continued. “My mom finally retired, so she’s gonna sell the house and I’ll be out on my ass. But she’ll be moving to be with all her friends and warm weather. We’ll both be glad not to worry about her breaking her hip on the ice 5 months of the year.” 

“Winter is not my favorite,” Rey replied with a grimace. “Shoveling, ice, slush. It’s a nightmare.” 

He quieted the instinct to say he could take care of those things for her. He wanted to be there when the weather turned, to hole up in a warm house with her; but he knew that making assumptions about the future could land him in hot water. Especially on first dates. _Fuck_ , he thought, _was this only the first date?_

He had no idea why he volunteered so much information, how she lowered his defenses so quickly. It surprised him that it felt so natural, and he felt oddly confident that he wasn’t just revealing something of himself she’d wield against him later. It occurred to him that nothing about the evening was normal, but at the same time every single thing was natural. He relaxed thinking about how special and different and weird and natural everything with Rey felt. 

“How did you know not to just throw your clothes on the floor?” she asked, pulling him from his thoughts. “I could tell, like, you looked around and _knew_. Was it because of your dad?” 

Ben smiled. “In a way. That’s actually more because of my godfather, Lando. He and my dad met in college in the 70s. He was one of the folks who took sledgehammers to curbs to make curb cuts.” 

He had no idea what to make of her expression. Her eyebrows were knit together and her mouth hung open. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” 

“No?” he offered. 

“Lando Calrissian is your godfather?” 

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “You know who he is?” 

“His fucking wheelchair is in the Smithsonian, Ben. He’s legendary. Super charismatic, doesn't give two shits, pioneer of the disability rights movement. _Please_ tell me you have stories.” 

“Definitely. He’s quite a character. But he was always just my uncle Lando. So yeah, that’s how I knew not to throw clothes everywhere.” 

“Wow,” she said airily. She inched a tiny bit closer and they just lay there, breathing, thinking. 

He looked and expected to see her relaxed and ready for sleep, but instead he saw worry on her face. “So you’re ok if I’m never— if it’s never any better than this? Or if it, like, gets worse one day?” 

“Of course,” he responded with zero hesitation. 

She let out a sigh and finally brought her eyes back to his. “And you’re ok if I’m the big spoon?” 

“Absolutely,” he said. Again with no hesitation and a giant smile. 

“In perpetuity?” she confirmed. 

“Obviously,” he answered first with words and then a long kiss, his thumb caressing her chin. He pulled away and looked her in the eyes before flipping over onto his other side and pulling her arm around his waist. 

He felt her snuggle against him, pressing her face in between his shoulder blades. He thought he heard her inhale, and he could definitely feel her heart beating against his back. He knew his heart was racing, the idea of sleeping with her thrilling him beyond measure. 

On the cusp of sleep, a memory of his mother reciting poetry before bed edged into Ben’s mind. It was always a too serious, too grown-up poem, but it stuck with him. As he drifted into sleep he thought there might be nothing under his skin but light. If you cut him, he’d shine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever do that thing with an electric toothbrush where you move your mouth around and it sounds like a vocoder? There's an episode of 99% invisible called [Vox Ex Machina](https://99percentinvisible.org/episode/vox-ex-machina/) about vocoders if, like my beta, you have no idea what they are!
> 
> There are some brief mentions of Lando, who I modeled after Ed Roberts—specifically his relationship with Lee Thorn and his son Jesse. I highly recommend this appreciation of him on [Bullseye with Jesse Thorn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yvk0HFKzsMc&ab_channel=BullseyewithJesseThorn).  
> You can also read about/listen to how his [wheelchair ended up in the Smithsonian](https://99percentinvisible.org/episode/curb-cuts/) and about the groundbreaking [1977 504 sit-in](https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/504-sit-in-san-francisco-1977-disability-rights-advocacy).  
> [On Turning Ten](https://upittpress.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/07/9780822938934exr.pdf).


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